Hunting the Wolf
by treblegnome
Summary: The Hound is looking for the wolf.


Sansa sat on the tower wrapped in a white cloak. She wore the grey dress with a silver wolf pinned at her shoulder. Her feet dangled over the edge as she waited for darkness to fall. The word had come earlier that day but Joffrey had waited until dinner to announce it. Theon Greyjoy had betrayed the Starks, killed her little brothers, and Winterfell was burned. Everyone said that it was only a matter of time before Robb was defeated. She finally made a decision after dinner. She would die s Stark and not allow Joffrey to have her, ever. Sansa heard the noise of footsteps coming up the tower steps. She ignored the sound, staring out over the Blackwater below.

"What are you doing perched up there, little bird?" It was the Hound.

Sansa didn't look at him, not from fear of him but for fear of losing her courage to do what she knew she must.

He had to have heard the news, it didn't take but a moment for him to realize what she planned to do. To her great surprise the Hound strode toward her intently, she moved to make her jump before he could reach her but he was too fast. In one quick motion he grabbed her around the waist with both arms and hauled her away from the edge. Her back to him, Sansa fought him, kicking and screaming the whole way back to her room.

"Let me go! Let me die!" She shrieked at him over and over.

When he reached her room, the Hound tossed her onto her bed and turned away to bar the door. Sansa sprang from the bed and attacked him, screaming, kicking, pummeling, scratching. She was easy to subdue, being so much smaller and weaker than him. He caught her hands and wrapped his arms around her tightly forcing her to stop. She seemed to stop struggling so he once again deposited her on the bed. Again she sprang at him, more fiercely than before.

"Let me go! Just let me die!" She screamed, but he held onto her arms, not letting her go as he dragged her over to a chair. He sat in it, pulling her onto his lap, not allowing her to run back to the tower.

She continued to struggle against his arms for a while until she eventually collapsed, weeping on his shoulder. Even after that, he didn't let her go, he waited until she had fallen asleep, then picked her up and placed her on the bed. It was then that he noticed the white cloak she had been wrapped in, his white cloak that he had given her when Joffrey stripped her before the court. His cloak and Stark colors. He wondered what that meant but not for long. Then he walked out of her room, closing the door behind him.

It was months later, after she had married Tyrion and learned of the Red Wedding before she ever had similar thoughts again. Tyrion came back to their bed late one night soon after she had lost the last of her family and found her curled up underneath a bloodstained white cloak. She was trembling, weeping silent tears.

"Sansa, what is this?" Tyrion touched the corner of the stained cloak.

She got up from the bed and began folding up the cloak. "Nothing my lord. I'll move it."

He thought for a moment that perhaps it was some token of her brothers from Winterfell, but the Stark colors were gray not white. Sansa was a lady who would ordinarily be disgusted by bloodstains it seemed.

"Sansa, tell me truthfully, where did you get this cloak?" His tone was friendly, not demanding.

Sansa only stared at him, hugging the folded cloak to herself.

"Please." Tyrion said sincerely.

"On the night of the Blackwater, the Hound came to my room..." Sansa began.

Tyrion clenched his fists, wondering what that monster might have done to her. "So he raped you after he deserted his duties!"

"No! He did no such thing! He was only afraid of the fire...he never hurt me...he offered to take me home, to keep me safe and kill anyone who might hurt me...but he was drunk and I was afraid that it might be some trick of Joffrey's...so I stayed...he left his cloak and never came back..."

"Well perhaps it is best that he didn't" Tyrion said, not understanding what Clegane could have possibly been up to.

"Of course my lord." Sansa nodded and turned to stare out the window, still clutching the cloak.

"Sansa?"

She glanced back at him.

He was going to ask her if she had fallen in love with the Hound but he knew that she was unlikely to be truthful about it if she had. It would seem disloyal and disloyal was the last thing that Sansa Stark would ever be. The look in her eyes was answer enough. That the perfect mild mannered lady would fall in love with the brutal scarred dog was almost as absurd as an imp falling for a whore. "Sleep well." He told her, returning to his study, his books, and his wine.

The Vale was the last place she expected to see a familiar face. She had been Alayne Stone for so long that she'd almost forgotten the people that Sansa Stark used to know. Almost. Often she did think of him. She'd cried herself to sleep when she'd heard he was dead. Then as she passed down one of the long corridors she saw a familiar figure ahead coming towards her. He limped now, but the frame was the same and as he came closer the scarred face became evident. Sansa gasped and stood rooted to her spot as he approached.

"You're still afraid of me little bird?" He said, sounding disappointed.

"No..I heard you were dead." She managed, still in shock.

He shook his head. "I'm not that easy to kill."

Then Sansa did something very unladylike. She threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugged her in return, lifting her from the ground to hold her tighter. He leaned his back against the stone walls so that he could hold her for as long as she cried, for as long as she needed him. Several minutes passed before she loosened her grip around his neck. He let her go as soon as she did that.

"Why did you come here?" Sansa asked him, worried that he was here on an errand for some superior and she might never see him again.

"I thought I might check on the little bird."

"Littlefinger let you in?"

"No, I didn't exactly come through the front door. All castles have secret tunnels. You just have to know who to ask." He grunted.

She nodded understanding, then grabbed his hand and pulled him back down the hall the way she had come. She locked the door behind them when they entered her chambers and began rummaging through a chest of things. She took out three warm dresses, boots, and a wool cloak. Then she reached under her bed and took out a box. It contained food, dried meats, cheese, hard breads, and dried fruit. Evidently the little bird had been planning to run away for a long while. She tossed all of her things haphazardly into a cloth bag and turned to face him.

"I'm not letting you leave without me this time." She said.

"I can't bring you to Winterfell."

"Then somewhere else...I can't stay here."

He nodded. He hadn't planned to let her stay anyway. The Hound showed her through the tunnels to the outside of the castle. His horse Stranger waited for them there.


End file.
